


paint me in the oceans of blue

by nxpenthe



Series: jigsaws, love letters [1]
Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Pining, Synesthesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 06:18:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18845350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nxpenthe/pseuds/nxpenthe
Summary: blue is the color of love, and yerim can't get enough.in which choi yerim sees the world in color.





	paint me in the oceans of blue

Choi Yerim sees the world in colors.  
  


Smells have a color – her favorite is the soft pastels of orange and pink that swirl together whenever she steps into the bakery on the corner of her street – just like they have a taste, and even if the two don’t seem to combine, the vividly rich purple that appears to dance in her vision as she bites into a piece of milk chocolate fills the space. Concepts have colors too, just like how she knows an even number is even because it’s green in contrast to odds which are a murky sort of grey, much akin to a mouse’s pelt.

  
Her family shares the color purple, although they’re different shades. While her father is a darker mauve, her mother contrasts with a soft lilac; her father was always the stricter of the two, though the smile lines gathered at the corner of his eyes spoke otherwise. Her mother, as friends and family always pointed out when gathered, is as close to a copy as Yerim as she could be with the same sunny disposition and round eyes that took hold of every items as though it were a treasure. Her two sisters were similar plum and wine colors, their personalities contrasting with the colors that filled the air whenever they moved or spoke.

  
She doesn’t understand how her friends don’t see the colors that fill every corner of her vision, and Yerim feels bad that she can’t share the wonders of just _knowing_ that friendship is a blazing silver and familial love a wonderfully pale shade of scarlet.

  
Her favorite color, however isn’t the fresh smell of ginger orange that accompanies a healing shower, nor is it the hardy glister of brown that fills her senses with the melodies of her favorite songs. Her favorite color is the brilliant cerulean.

  
It’s a blue that fills her entire chest – much like the gilded waves of the ocean that strikes the pristine shore of her vision, the vibrant sapphire blue curls into her heart, stealing the oxygen from her cells until they too turn a dulled azure, dazed at the overwhelming radiance of it all.

  
Blue is the color accompanied by bleached blond hair. Blue is the color that paints her smile whenever Yerim catches a glimpse of pale skin and long limbs. Blue is the color that creeps at the corner of her vision whenever her thoughts wander too close to that loud crisp laugh she hears ringing down the hall more often than not.

  
Blue is the color of love.

  
Blue is Yerim’s favorite color.

  
\--

  
“What are you looking at?” Jungeun settles into the seat next to her, legs folded as she leans backwards, chest pushed forward as her shoulders spread, arms settled on the back of the bench comfortably. The ‘at’ pops from how she takes her lips from the straw of her McDonald’s soda – probably Sprite.

  
Yerim hums, still much too amused by the sparks of yellow and mint exploding from the pavement beneath the fluttering of wings and the coo of pigeons. She throws another fry at the birds, smile growing at how the colors intensify.

  
“Yellow.”

  
Jungeun grunts. Yerim knows she doesn’t understand, but Jungeun doesn’t make fun of her which is all she asks; the first time she had exposed her secret, boys had teased her until the tears of black and ruby ran down her cheeks, splattering the white pavement with horribly dark streaks. Jungeun had found her, curled in the safety of her seat as a child, and with a protective arm wrapped around her shoulders, had embraced her in a warm of mahogany.

  
Though Jungeun doesn’t understand, she doesn’t question her, offering her smaller stature as protection in wreath of silky crimson.

  
“Where’s Sol?” Jungeun questions, ripping off a part of her own burger bun to throw at the pigeons.

  
The mint remains, but the addition of a burger morphs the previous yellow to a shade of lucid violet. It’s not a very pretty color, the edges too murky, so she throws another fry to turn it back.

  
“I thought she was with you?”

  
“Don’t tell me she actually went through the drive-thru.”

  
Yerim blinks, curiosity and concern painting the clear skies pink. “Drive-thru? But we don’t have a car?”

  
“Dumbass wanted to see if it was against the rule to go to the drive-thru without a car,” Jungeun grunts, annoyed but clearly amused. “Hope she gets the cops called on her ass.”

  
Yerim, having no words to offer, stuffs a couple of fries into her mouth.

  
Jungeun is a fiery red. She’s smoky and deep, a flavorful red – wine, maybe, if she knew what it actually tasted like, but from the way it’s described by adults much older than her, maybe wine definitely fit Jungeun best.

  
The red softens at the appearance of the bright blue. The edges of the color mix, the softest shade of purple lining the edge of where the two met and separated. Tendrils of smoky blue waft, dancing with a wispy red that dances into the corner of her vision until she tears her gaze away.

  
She’s met with the color of love.

  
Jinsol greets the two cheerfully, smile nothing but bright and edging victorious by the way she waves her brown paper McDonald’s bag in the air.

  
“Turns out you don’t need a car to use the drive-thru!”

  
A pure laugh sends vines of indigo creeping up Yerim’s leg, squeezing gently. She’s quick to return the gesture, her own hand raised high as she pumps her arm excitedly. The other hand squeezes her burger, the bun flattened into the meat patty in an unappetizing mash that’ll more than likely get eaten by Jungeun later regardless of appearance.

  
“Dumbass,” Jungeun repeats, loud enough for Jinsol to hear. Her feisty red softens to a glowing coral.

  
Jinsol ignores the comment, responding with only a tongue stuck out her mouth. Arms wrap themselves around Yerim’s shoulders instead, soft cheeks and sharp jaw cradling themselves into the exposed skin of Yerim’s neck.

  
Though as curious as she always was, Yerim for once is glad she’s unable to see her own color because she knows that it would be as red as the blush that takes ahold of her cheeks.

  
“What color am I?” Jinsol asks, round eyes blinking as though she’s staring at the night sky of wonders then at a simple girl with a crush and the ability to see colors where they didn’t belong. “Come on, Yerimmie, tell me, what color am I?”

  
Jinsol, unlike Jungeun, had tried her best to understand. She’s the one who listens when Yerim tries to explain why noodles come in shades of neon green except for pasta which is more olive, and how the number six, Jinsol’s favorite number, is a pulsing gold that compliments the richness of Jinsol’s blue. She’s the one who Yerim talks to when the tears of black return, or when the clutches of uncertain bronze hold her heart in jittery anxiety.

  
Jinsol can’t see the colors like Yerim can, but it doesn’t stop her from trying regardless.

  
“You’re like a milky blue with tinges of white on the edges,” Yerim tries to explain, watching Jinsol’s usual vivacity mellow into a calming cobalt. “It’s very pretty.”

  
Jinsol lets out a small sigh, almost like a purr, before detaching herself from Yerim and sitting on the bench opposite to Jungeun so she’s squished between the two blonds.

  
“You’re so lucky you’re able to see these.” Jinsol says, though the words come blurred from how many chicken nuggets she has stuffed into the pockets of her cheeks. Jungeun continues eating her burger though doesn’t hesitate to reprimand the older girl.

  
Yerim ignores how the blue and red mix together seamlessly above her colorless self.

  
\--

  
While blue is the color of love, Yerim quickly learns that red is the color of heartache.

  
The synthesis of blue and red is instinctual; they’re both primary colors, the original two that combine to create better, newer shades that fill the Earth. Yerim watches as the two colors merge closer and closer until the separation is no longer clear – red melts into purple and leads into blue, and there’s now a streak of blue that refuses to separate from deep within the red.

  
Yerim sees the world in colors and even if they are beautiful and wonderful and brilliant and special, they’re also painful and heartbreaking and tragic and pathetic.

  
Yerim doesn’t have a color to her. Her reflections, surrounded by the wonderful colors of the world, is poignantly empty – a nonexistent white that marks her separate from the spectacles of existence.

  
Perhaps it’s because she doesn’t have a color that red and blue mix above and around her.

  
Perhaps it’s because she doesn’t have a color that the blue she seeks dyes her soul so deeply until she’s dreaming of the cerulean sea even from deep within the confines of her subconsciousness.

  
Perhaps it’s because she doesn’t have a color that red fills her blue oxygen deprived cells again until she breaks out of her stupor of azure filled adoration.  
  


She wants to see the world in blue, to be embraced by the cerulean crystals as sweet as honey and as euphoric as the brazen emerald of happiness itself. Yerim opens her lips to inhale the blue, for it to return to her system, to clutch at her heart once more with the softness of feathery white down.

  
Instead she’s left with the bitter taste of cherry red.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm writing at 2am again instead of doing my finals/studying !!!! 3 days and i'll be free from my actual school obligations
> 
> choerry's one of those i think is much smarter than what she lets on? and i wanted to write smth along the lines of it. maybe i'll continue, maybe not, but for now this was written in ~30 minutes. completely un'edited and very sleep deprived!!
> 
> i'm glad to be getting back into my usual writing styles and habits ;;;;;;; i missed writing oneshots oh man


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